What You Deserve
by TheBadIdeaBears
Summary: With Hawkeye taking the week off, Mustang needs someone to help him in the office - who better than Edward?


**Hey, Pandora here! I wrote this for Holly for a little Christmas fic swap we did. I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

"Just to remind you, I'd like a coffee when you're done, Fullmetal."

I stay silent and flick through the last few documents, opening a different drawer in the filing cabinet in front of me. _I heard you the first time, General Bastard_ , I don't say.

"Just you seemed to be taking so long with the filing I thought you might have forgotten," he continues and if he didn't sound so bored I would swear he'd have a smug fucking smile on his smug fucking face. "I know I told Hawkeye to take the week off but don't make me regret the decision."

 _Bastard._ My teeth dig into the leather bar in my mouth and I try not to growl. I finish up with the filing and go over to the table in the corner where I tip coffee beans into a grinder and start turning the handle.

"Milk, no sugar," he calls to me and yeah _maybe_ I'm _sort of_ grateful because he takes his coffee different sometimes and I can't exactly _ask_ right now.

I make the coffee and put the cup on the desk next to the reports Mustang's been writing all day. He picks it up and holds it and I watch his dark eyes slide over the pages, reading what he's already written before he sips. He looks at me; our eyes meet for a second but then his slide down and _ugh_ I'm blushing all over, _what the hell_? He follows the line of buttons down the front of my blouse and lingers on the hem of the leather miniskirt. We both know I'm not wearing anything under it. I swallow as much as I can with the bit between my teeth and he carries on down my legs.

"Over there," he says, gesturing lazily with one hand and putting down the cup. I go stand where he's asked, my heart thumping harder because all he's got me to do today is fucking file and make coffee, all with this plug stretching my ass open, all day, and this is _different_. "Turn."

I turn on the spot, slow so he can see all of me – and he might as well seeing as I was nice enough to put on this stupid skirt for him. I glance over my shoulder to see him eating it up and I don't even think about cocking one of my legs before I do it. Mustang gives me a satisfied smile and stands.

"Very nice," he says, coming over to me and running his fingers along the leather straps on my cheeks. "Seeing as you've been a good boy so far I think I'll give you a break."

He reaches around the back of my head and I feel the straps go slack before he takes the bar out from between my teeth. I move my jaw, puff out my cheeks, rub the inside of my mouth with my tongue while my fingers massage the outsides to get the feeling back. Mustang steps closer and tilts my chin up before I'm done and then it's just lips and teeth and tongue and Mustang's hands are warm on my back and pulling on my loose hair. He pulls my head back and bites up my throat and I groan.

There's a tapping noise and cold and I realise that the buttons aren't on the blouse anymore but I don't care because General Bastard is getting me hard and _fuck_ I just want his cock in me now instead of this plug. He bites my lip and I sigh and his hands are getting closer to the hem on my skirt.

"So I think–"

 _Knock knock knock._

His words are cut off and we both jump. We exchange a look before he grabs me and then I'm shoved into the space under his desk – and _thank god_ the back is solid because there's nowhere else to hide here. Mustang sits down and calls the visitor in.

"Major Armstrong," says Mustang. "What can I do for you?"

"General Mustang." Armstrong's voice is muffled through the wood of the desk. "We have reports from the regiment sent to Aerugo of increasing counts of thievery in the more rural areas."

Mustang pulls his chair in closer to the desk and I scramble back to make room but now my shoulders are cramping against the corners of the space and I can't help myself from grunting.

"Huh?"

I clap my hands over my mouth.

"General, did you hear that?" Armstrong asks.

 _Shiiiiiiiiiiit._

"Hear what?"

"I could have sworn I heard..."

 _Fuck fuck fuck shut up shut up shut up._

"Hmm?" Mustang sounds disinterested. "I didn't hear anything."

Armstrong huffs. "I must have imagined something."

 _Thank god Mustang's a good liar._

"Did the reports from Aerugo give any indication as to what has been stolen?" Mustang asks and Armstrong seems to forget about the sound. I relax a little and breathe out slowly, moving my legs just as slowly to try and get more comfortable but... ah fuck, I'm still hard and the skirt is pressing down and making things _hurt_.

I manage to get myself so I'm sitting on my legs with my head ducked down and Mustang's feet are either side of me. I take the blouse off, not like it's doing much now anyway.

"And the traders say they have no idea who might have taken the goods?" Mustang asks. Ugh, this is going to take forever... unless...

I have to keep from laughing at the idea I just had, even though I know he might kill me for it. I bite my tongue and shuffle forward so that I'm sitting between his legs and then I reach for the zip on his trousers. He doesn't seem to notice right away, mostly because I'm moving slow but also because he seems genuinely interested in this Aerugo-thievery thing. Ugh, glad I'm not a General, seems fucking dull.

His legs stiffen the second I touch his cock and pull it out of his underwear. His knees clamp around my shoulders and I start stroking him. He doesn't need much encouragement before he's hard and then I lick him slowly from his balls up. He inhales sharply.

"General are you alright?" asks Armstrong.

 _He's more than alright_. I laugh to myself and wrap my lips around him. His thighs tremble.

"I'm fine, Major," Mustang says. "Foot cramp."

"You should walk it off," suggests Armstrong.

"No, I'll be fine," insists Mustang and I suppress a laugh by sucking a little harder. "So... uh... the thieves, we should... find them and catch them."

 _He's going to kill me for this but fuck it, I'm having too much fun._ I flatten my tongue against his cock and drag it backwards in my mouth, pulling him further in.

"Yes, General, that was what we assumed would be the course of action," says Armstrong. "Are you sure that you are alright sir?"

I add one of my hands to the equation.

"Uhhh... Possibly not, Major," says Mustang. "I'd like increased military presence in the area until the issue is resolved. Send some of the 7th and 9th in to deal with it. Now, if you'll excuse me I think I might take a break. Please instruct no one to disturb me for the rest of the afternoon."

I pull my mouth up and off Mustang's cock and blow on the wet skin. I hear Armstrong click his heels and leave, the door shutting behind him. There's a moment of silence, and then...

 _SLAM!_

"Oww!"

There's a boot in my chest and I'm slammed into the back of the desk. Mustang stares down at me.

"That," he says, "was audacious."

"And you loved it," I laugh.

He lifts his foot away and I start to crawl out from under the desk but then the boot comes back and I'm pinned again.

" _Oww_ , what the fuck?!"

"I did _not_ tell you to do that," he says, almost through his teeth. "If you can't follow instructions, then maybe I need to show you who's in charge here."

The words send a shiver through my body even before he grabs me and throws me to the floor. I don't have time to try getting up before he's on top of me, pressing a knee into my back and grabbing my arms.

"You need to learn who's boss, Fullmetal," he growls. I feel pressure around my wrists as he ties them together. "Fortunately I have ways to teach you."

His knee is still shoving into the small of my back, sandwiching my cock between me and the floor, and the skirt isn't helping anything. I'm so hard it hurts. I feel something pulled hard against my neck like a garotte and feel a familiar mix of leather straps and metal rings as I lift my head up.

"Now, are you going to behave?" he asks, tugging on the gag. "Or do I need to put this back on?"

I struggle, less because I think I can get out of this and more on instinct.

"Well?"

He pulls at the gag again and I gasp for breath.

"I'll behave!"

"Good." He lets go of the strap and my face thuds into the floor. "Maybe if you redeem yourself enough I'll let you come."

"What?!"

 _Fuck fuck fuck_.

He gets off me and his boots appear next to my face.

"My shoes need cleaning, Fullmetal," he says. "Maybe we should put your oral fixation to some use for once."

I look up at him and see him staring down at me. I wriggle forward and stick out my tongue, running it along the apex of his toe.

"Get on with it." He nudges my chin with one boot.

I stop myself from glaring up at him and lick the toe again. It tastes dusty and weirdly solid. I keep licking, breathing in the smell of leather and polish, and _fuck_ it's turning me on more than I would ever tell him.

"You sound like you're enjoying it, Fullmetal," he says, and I can hear him smirking. Apparently I didn't _need_ to tell him. "I don't think I'm quite satisfied yet though."

I groan, stretching my neck to reach his other foot. The prospect of a night of blue balls looms over me and I put everything into getting the leather to gleam, rolling onto one side to get a better angle on both boots.

"Well done," he says eventually and I flop down onto the floor, panting. My tongue aches and my chest feels heavy, but fuck it if anyone's ever put more effort into getting those boots fucking spotless.

Mustang grabs me by my hair and pulls. I bite my lip on a yelp, scrambling to get my legs under me so that I end up kneeling in front of him, my hair still tangled around his fingers. He leans down until his lips brush my cheek.

"Feeling obedient yet, Fullmetal?" His breath tickles my ear and sends a rush through me.

"Yes." I don't know why but I'm nearly whispering.

"Yes what?" He tugs my hair again.

"Agh...! Yes General."

"Good." He straightens up and looks down at me. "I think you have some more atoning to do though."

I realise what he means before he pulls me to him and keep my balance – just. I open my mouth and he pushes his cock in unceremoniously, cutting off whatever sound I might be about to make. It hits the back of my throat and tears spring to my eyes, making me shrink back again. He grabs my head and pushes it forward, and we build up a rhythm between my lips and his hands. I crush my thumbs in my fists – I still can't decide if it helps but Winry told me it would and it gives me something to do – and Mustang pushes himself further in, grunting. I do my best with my tongue, dragging it back and forth. If I can just...

Mustang slides his cock out of my mouth again, glistening with spit, and I feel his thumb running along my bottom lip. I look up to see him staring down at me.

"We're not done yet, Fullmetal."

I open my mouth to say something but then close it again.

"What?"

"Nothing, General."

"Say it."

"No, General."

"Are you disobeying my orders?"

"No, General, it just–"

"Then spit it out."

I swallow, knowing this won't end well. "I just... I wondered if I might be allowed to come, General...?"

He pauses and I wait. Eventually instead of answering he grabs me again and before I know it I'm bent forward over the desk, my head sideways on its surface. He unzips the skirt and peels it off me, pulling it down my legs. He stands up again and his fingers trace the sensitive, scarred skin on my right shoulder where my automail used to be.

"You're right, you shouldn't have asked," he says, voice low in his throat, as his fingers leave my shoulder again.

There's a _smack_ and a sting as his hand suddenly comes down on my ass.

"Agh!"

"Permission not granted."

I hear the swish of his hand again and jump as he smacks me, managing to keep myself from yelping too loudly. I think he's going to smack me again but instead I feel a tugging and pushing and I let out a slow moan.

"Forgot about this?" He pulls and pushes the plug, twisting it, and I can feel my legs trembling. "You look very pretty stretched open like this..." He pulls the plug out to its widest point and then lets go; it sinks back into my ass and I dig my fingernails into my palms as it settles inside me.

"I haven't even touched you yet," he says. "Look how desperate you are..."

He prods the plug and it brushes my prostate. I jump against my restraints.

"Ah _fuck_!"

"I don't think I'd even _need_ to touch you."

I shiver, and I think I agree with him. He pulls and pushes the plug a little more but then his hands move to my hip and shoulder. He turns me over and I lean back on my elbows. My cock settles on my belly and I don't get why he's done this until I look up. Mustang's eyes stay on my face as he parts my legs and _fuck_ , that look on his face...

"Don't look away."

I obey. His hands work fast; he grabs lube out of his desk and smooths it onto himself before I feel a final tug and the plug is gone. His fingers are inside me before I even hear him drop it and then he moans, long and slow, as he pushes his cock inside me.

I realise I'm almost fucking whimpering as he starts to build up a rhythm. I want to close my eyes and let my head fall back but his eyes won't leave mine and so I meet his gaze, watching him watch me. The muscles clench in my butt; I tighten around him whenever he thrusts forward and I manage to get another low growl out of him. He reaches down and grabs my cock in his hand, stroking the skin up and down slowly. I can't keep in a high moan.

"Oh god, fuck, I'm getting close."

His dark eyes narrow and I'm not sure if he's amused or pissed off... or both. "Permission not granted."

"Agh really?!"

"Are you questioning my orders?"

"But I'm –" He squeezes hard and I don't finish my sentence.

"Persuade me," he says. "I don't think you deserve it yet."

"Ah fuck, _please_ ," I groan and I hate the desperation in my voice but fuck. "Please, sir, _please_ let me come."

He strokes faster.

" _Please_ , General!"

"Don't look away," he says again and he starts fucking me harder, timing his hand with his thrusts. "Permission granted."

I come, hard, his fingers dragging it out while he grabs my hip with his other hand and comes inside me. He gasps and his face drops the authority he's been keeping on it all day and he's just Roy. He leans in and kisses me as we slow our movements.

Roy pulls out and cleans up; I wait on the desk, still panting, until he lifts me off it and unties my hands. We flop onto one of the sofas and he picks up the coat I left on the back of it earlier, pulling it around me. He kisses me on the forehead and even though we just finished fucking there's something more intimate about that than anything else he's done today. I huddle into his side and he wraps one arm around my waist while his other hand rubs up and down my arm. He murmurs something I don't catch.

"Hmm?" I touch my nose to his. "What did you say?"

"Nothing much," he says, giving me a smile. "Just that I love you. And that I should get Hawkeye to take more time off."

"I think I have to agree," I grin.


End file.
